


I'd Follow You Until the End of Time

by freedomworm



Category: Avengers (Comic), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, World Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-16
Updated: 2012-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-05 11:16:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomworm/pseuds/freedomworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint will always find Bruce. He'll travel the world. Bruce can run, but he can't hide, and Clint will always find him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd Follow You Until the End of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Normal disclaimers: do not own blah blah not my intellectual property... you know the drill. I'm not even a poor college student. I have to start and finish high school for that...
> 
> A/N: So I saw the Avengers on opening weekend in the U.S, fell in love with every single fucking person, especially Clint and Bruce (Loki and Thor = my love for them is on an entire different level, I can't even comprehend, so I leave them alone). Naturally, I spent a few days exhausting all fanfic and fanart sources for this ship before VOI-FREAKIN'-LA. I wrote a one-shot. I hope this turned out okay!
> 
> ORIGINALLY POSTED: 05/16/2012  
> EDITED/REVISED: 11/21/2015  
> *Revisions mostly changed around sentence structure to improve flow. Minor detail changes near the end and ch. 1 & 2 combined

Clint is part of the team that's been tracking the Hulk.

They corner it, finally, after a seven month chase, and Clint looks down from the helicopter to see the raging green monster, smashing up the docks and the agents already on the scene. It is roaring wildly, at the sky at the agents, at the world.

Clint doesn't think he's ever seen someone with so much anger inside of them, not even Natasha on her bad days.

"Here we go," Clint says, reaching back to his quiver for an arrow that's been specially made to construct ziplines. He takes aim and fires and uses his bow to slide down the cable that came from the arrow. Natasha follows and then they are on ground zero, with the Hulk swinging at everything in sight.

Clint readies an arrow and smirks, knowing it will hit its target even as he let it fly.

Hulk turns around just as the head of the arrow explodes in its face. It screams in fury and then spots Natasha and Clint.

"Hey there," He decides on smiling cheekily as he reaches back for another arrow.

Natasha goes at the Hulk, guns blazing. She flips gracefully out of the way of his fists and shoots into his eyes. "Those tranq arrows would be nice now!" she yells at Clint as she lands on the ground.

"Got it." He puts three arrows onto the string of the bow and hits the green creature in the chest.

One more roar and then it stumbles back hazily and falls over.

 

* * *

 

Clint gets curious.

He's seen the Hulk in its uniquely designed cage from the observation deck, but he wants to see him up close as well.

The Hulk spent the first day screaming in the cage but eventually quieted down and resorted to pacing back and forth angrily. Now it's curled up in a corner of the cage, scowling out the glass.

Clint is quiet about walking up the Hulk, and maybe that's a bad idea, because all of the sudden the Hulk seems to sense his presence and it stands up and turns around and it's  _massive._ Also,  _eeugh_. Clint's  _eardrums_.

"Okay, sorry, sorry!" He holds up his hands in a placating manner like that will do something. He backs away slowly and puts his hands in the air next to him. "Look, look, no weapons. Calm down, okay?"

The Hulk is  _not_  calming down.

Clint backs out of the room slowly and runs into Natasha in the hall.

She raises a questioning eyebrow but then says, "Fury wants us in the meeting room."

"What for?"

"New assignment." She shrugs.

The assignment turns out to be called the Avengers Initiative. They meet Iron Man, who is a bit of a douchebag, and Captain American, who is… well, he's Captain America.

 

* * *

 

The Avengers mansion is nice.

It has a lot of little hidey holes for Clint to camp out in, even though he's got his own gigantic bedroom.

Clint finds that he can tolerate Stark's constant complaining, and complaining with Steve. Natasha, of course, is like a sister, and that alien god they recruited is okay, too.

They go out and fight bad guys most days, almost get killed some days, and they always come home to the mansion where they live in luxury.

It's luxury that no one but Tony and Thor are really accustomed to, and a luxury that, when Clint thinks about it really hard, makes him uncomfortable. He always lived in small quarters during his time with S.H.I.E.L.D. Good weapons were the luxury, not clothes and food and God's sake, the  _furniture_.

He's relieved when Fury calls him in for a one-man mission, and even though he's never exactly been a  _fan_  of life on the road, it makes more sense than the unnecessarily lush apartment Tony has given to him. For  _free_.

"I need you to track down the Hulk." Fury says.

Clint's eyebrows go way up. "He escaped?" he asks, because this is the first he's heard of it. Then again, once he brought in the Hulk, his connection with the case was over.

"We made the mistake of allowing Bruce Banner out in hopes of getting him to trust us." Fury replies, clenching his teeth. "Just find Bruce Banner. Convince him to come back. You can call in back-up if needed, but it would be preferable if you worked alone."

"Negotiation? Not that I'm complaining, sir, but wouldn't Nat- Agent Romanov be better for an assignment like this?"

"You were the one who found the Hulk last time. You know him best."

And that's the truth.

 

* * *

 

It takes Clint three weeks to locate Bruce Banner. The Hulk was last seen in the countryside of Idaho. Clint tracks Banner out of the country, through Europe, and into the Middle East before he loses the man.

After that it's like Banner has disappeared.

Clint spends weeks trailing false leads. Those weeks turn to months and then suddenly it's a bar in Bolivia.

"Four months," Banner says, almost with amusement, as Clint sits down on the stool next to him, "That's much less than last time."

Clint has been so used to dealing with the Hulk, it's never occurred to him that he's never heard Bruce Banner talk before. Sure, he's read the file; Banner's a genius, blah blah blah. But it's different in person.

Banner wears purple a lot and seems to like the color, which is something Clint can appreciate. Right now, Banner's wearing a purple button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His dark curly hair has grown wild, and being on the run doesn't give a man the time to shave that often, so what was once a permanent five o'clock shadow is now a full-blown beard.

"Yeah, well, I don't have others with me to drag me down." Clint says. "I'm here to take you back, by the way."

"To S.H.I.E.L.D? And what if I decide not to go along?"

"You could run," Clint acknowledges, "But I'd follow you."

"What," Banner speaks in a peculiarly slow way. Almost like he's trying to keep calm –well, he probably is. It would sound threatening, if Clint was the type to be intimidated. "No tranquilizers? You could always shoot me."

"I don't want to force you." Clint says.

"Then you'll be following me for a long time," Banner tells him, and stands.

 

* * *

 

It's a one-man job, just like Fury said. S.H.I.E.L.D doesn't interfere. No doubt, however, they're watching from a distance.

Clint is no longer tracking Banner so much as he's following him around the world.

Sometimes, when Banner's sitting in a diner or a bar, Clint will sit down next to or across from him. He'll say how S.H.I.E.L.D needs him back.

"You're a genius," Clint says in Hong Kong, "You could work with them."

Banner, for the most part, tolerates Clint's presence, seems to accept that he's there, but isn't bothered one way or another about it. Sometimes, he'll slip away and it'll take Clint a while –a few hours at the least, a couple of weeks at the most –to find him again. But Clint always finds him.

"Are you planning on spending your life on me?" Banner says, and finally seems almost irritated when Clint catches up to him in Mexico City Banner is never anything in particular, only almost something. He's so mild-mannered sometimes, Clint feels sorry. Banner can't let himself  _feel_ , not fully.

"Until I get a different assignment. Until you go back with me."

"Agent Barton, right?" Banner stares at him with fathomless black eyes. "Hawk-eye?" He draws out the word, making it two. "There's no point in going back. The other guy hasn't been out in months." He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm not a menace." It sounds like something he's repeated to himself, over and over before. "I'm not going to let them lock me up again."

 

* * *

 

They're in Brazil.

"You know," Clint says, "Back in the States, I'm part of this team called the Avengers. We basically fight crime all day."

Banner is unmoved.

"You could help."

"As the Hulk." He says flatly.

"As Bruce Banner." Clint says, "We have Tony Stark, but he's a mechanic, not a scientist. And you're an expert in gamma radiation. You could help people."

"Nice try. But there are other people who study gamma radiation." Banner stands up and leaves.

 

* * *

 

One thing about Bruce Banner: he likes to watch.

At bars, he orders water or soda and lets other get drunk. He doesn't eat much, since he doesn't have much money, but he likes to sit in cafes for a long time, looking on as others eat around him. In Argentina, he likes to watch the couples dance in the town square. He laughs and socializes and dances and lives through everyone around him, and it's when he's watching that his brown eyes turn pensive and he is almost sad.

"Do you have someone back in the States?" Banner asks quietly.

Clint, who's been sitting at a table nearby, doesn't visibly startle, though he does jump a little inside. Banner hardly ever initiates conversation.

"Not in that way." He replies. "You?"

Banner looks at him and then a slow smile spreads across his face. It still doesn't reach his eyes. "No time for that. It's difficult to find someone when you're on the run."

"You should come back, then. Settle down."

Banner raises an eyebrow as if to say ' _I see what you did there_ '.

"Agent Barton," Banner says in a café, back in Mexico City, "What made you join S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"It was that or prison." Clint shrugs. "And call me Clint. Seriously."

Banner stares at him, long and hard. He spends uncomfortable amounts of time staring at and scrutinizing Clint. He holds out his hand after a moment. "Bruce."

Clint breaks into a smile and takes the hand in a shake.

The corner of Bruce's mouth quirks upward.

"Hi." Clint says.

"Hi."

 

* * *

 

"Hey, since you're already on the run, wanna go somewhere cool? We can go sight-seeing."

Bruce is properly baffled by this.

 

* * *

 

They go to Africa first.

Egypt.

Bruce gets a kick out of the pyramids, but Clint's always thought those damn things were creepy.

They move on through India. The monkeys are interesting. Not that interesting; Clint doesn't like 'em. They don't stay long.

When they visit Japan, Clint laughs his ass off upon finding the Avengers action figures and is sure to mail them back to New York, along with the Nick Fury poster.

That's the first time Clint sees Bruce actually smile. It's small and stems from amusement at Clint's total and utter glee, but it's there.

He decides it looks good on Bruce. It makes him look less tired. It makes him look younger –although Bruce isn't necessarily  _old_  or anything, stress has aged him quite a bit.

Clint tells Bruce about as much, and Bruce's eyes go wide at that, and then he smiles again, though uncertainly.

Clint grins.

In Shanghai, they run into trouble, trouble in the form of ninja assassins. Clint should've known better. There are  _always_  ninja assassins in Asia, and they always seem to know him.

Clint has the training, but Bruce doesn't.

He backs up against the alley wall as Clint attempts to fend off the increasing amount of ninjas. Clint's bow and arrows are in his bag, but he doesn't have the time to get them out.

"Bruce—" Clint glances back and sees the man shaking, doubled over on the ground, and then Bruce snaps his head back and roars.

The Hulk smashes, and the ninjas retreat quickly, abandoning their fallen, and then it runs – _he_  runs.

Clint feels his heart drop into his stomach as he watches the Hulk disappear over the skyscrapers.

It's been seven months.

 

* * *

 

He tracks the Hulk back through Asia, and finds Bruce Banner on the streets of Qingdao. It's March.

Bruce is shivering and half-unconscious.

Clint picks him up and carries him to the nearest hotel.

 

* * *

 

"Hey," Clint says softly, when Bruce is fully awake.

Bruce, huddled in a mountain of blankets, looked around blearily. "'er m'I?" He tries to ask.

Clint rests his chin in his hands. "Qingdao." He says.

"I can't feel my nose." Bruce mumbles.

"It looks fine," Clint says, smiling just a little.

Bruce clears his throat, "The other guy came out?"

"He saved us," Clint says..

Bruce sighs. "Is S.H.I.E.L.D on their way?"

Clint frowns. "No, why would-? Oh." He shakes his head, "Bruce, only if you want to go back."

"I never want to be locked away again." Bruce says.

"You won't be. Promise."

They don't go back.

 

* * *

 

"Do you have family waiting for you?" Bruce asks.

"Nope. I have Tasha, but we're not blood." Clint feels a pang of sadness. He's starting to really miss Natasha and the other Avengers. Hell, he even kind of misses  _Tony_.

"Tasha…?"

"We've worked together forever. She's one of the Avengers." Clint says. "She's was there, that, uh, well, last time. I don't know if you remember –red hair and"

"Black cat-suit?" Bruce fills in. "I saw her when Fury let me out."

"Yeah, well, that's Natasha,"

"She's pretty."

Clint snorts, "Most people don't say it that politely. But yeah, she's something else."

Bruce frowns. "You miss her?"

"We've been apart for longer than this."

 

* * *

 

Clint's been to Paris before on an assignment with Natasha three years ago, and so he's wary of the serenading bands that roam the streets, and he does his best to avoid them. They must sense fear, though, because they attack when Clint and Bruce are eating at an outside café.

Clint is absolutely horrified, and Bruce can see it on his face. He puts and hand over his face and starts to shake and for a terrible second, Clint thinks he's about to Hulk out… until he realizes Bruce is just trying to hold in his laughter. His laugh is this dorky kind of snort-giggle-snort, and Clint can't help but laugh, too.

There's this recurring thought that's started popping into his head every once in a while. Sometimes, they'll be somewhere exotic or just sitting in a bar or something and Clint will be watching Bruce and all of the sudden he'll think ' _God, he's amazing'_  or something like that. And then he shakes off the thought as quickly as he can because damn it, this is a job –no getting Feelings on a job.

When Bruce laughs, Clint thinks he's beautiful.

He gives the band money attached with a quick glare that says  _'that was cute, but don' t push your luck again, pal_ ', and he and Bruce walk through the streets of Paris until it's sunset and the city is falling into darkness.

"Did you think you ever think you were going to join something like S.H.I.E.L.D when you were growing up?" Bruce asks.

Clint smirks, "No one thinks they're going to join something like S.H.I.E.L.D when they're growing up. I actually grew up in a circus," He says, "I thought I was going to stay in it for the rest of my life." He tells Bruce about the orphanage, the circus, Barney, Trick Shot. He tells Bruce everything. When he's done, his tongue feels heavy and he wonders why. It takes years for people to earn his trust. Even Natasha doesn't know some of the things he just said and… Christ, he's all but just handed over his soul to Bruce Banner.

They walk in silence for a while afterwards.

"You miss it." Bruce says.

"Miss what?"

"Everything –Natasha, New York. The Avengers. S.H.I.E.L.D. I can tell."

They've stopped walking.

"I… kind of," Clint admits.

"Tell you what," Bruce says slowly. "Give me a month. That's exactly four weeks. And then I'll see if I still want to go back."

"Wait, if you  _still-?_ " Clint's eyes widen.

Bruce holds up a hand. "Everything you've told me. You've followed me over six continents. I would turn myself in to S.H.I.E.L.D, if it meant you could finally go home."

"Bruce, I-"

"One month. I consider you a friend, even if you might not think of me like that. I just want to see if… I change my mind."

"You don't have…" Clint trails off and closes his mouth. He nods. "One month."

"Although," Bruce says, smiling shyly, "I'm probably not going to change my mind. This is just an excuse for a little more time. My decision is inevitable."

Clint's about to ask a little more time for  _what_  but Bruce leans forward and covers his mouth with his own and  _oh_.

If he ever let himself imagine it, he would have thought that Bruce would be a chaste kisser, all warm gentle presses of lips, but Bruce kisses him right then hard enough to  _bruise_.

Clint leans forward, about to return the kiss when Bruce breaks away. Clint stands there, blinking, his head spinning, and Bruce puts a hand over his mouth, looking horrified in the moonlight, "Oh God, Clint, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was" –He begins to back away and no.

No, no, no. Clint will not allow that. "Hey," he says, reaching out and snagging the hem of Bruce's shirt. "It's okay." He smiles and wonders if Bruce can see it in the dark, with their faces so close together, and if he couldn't, he probably feels it on Clint's lips when he kisses him.

And when Bruce doesn't hesitate to reciprocate, Clint's heart pounds in his chest and he thinks that maybe he's never really known how much he's wanted this, to be held and kissed like it's the only thing that matters.

It's been eight months.

 

* * *

 

Fuck Paris and it's City of Love reputation and it's dumb sentimentality. Except, not really.

 

* * *

 

It's no longer Bruce traveling and Clint following along behind; they go everywhere together now. Friends with benefits, boyfriends, lovers –Clint doesn't know what they really are. Mushily, he finds that he doesn't care as long as they stay like whatever it is.

 

* * *

 

"One more week." Bruce murmurs, resting his chin on Clint's chest.

"You don't have to." Clint says, twisting his fingers into Bruce's hair. "And you said you'd make up your decision  _after_  the month was up…"

Bruce sighs. "I can't let you chase me around the world. That's just selfish."

"What if all parties involved give their consent?" Clint asks, sliding his hand down the back of Bruce's neck and tracing circles on his back.

"Now  _I'm_  the one trying to convince us to go to S.H.I.E.L.D?" Bruce is amused.

"I could go rogue," Clint teases, "Or say you won't ever come with me, and you'll Hulk out on anyone who tries to force you."

"The sentiment is appreciated, Clint," Bruce says, his mouth curling into a smile. "You'll thank me later." He rolls off the bed and stands up as Clint protests. "We have a flight in two hours," he shakes his head, "Being fully clothed is a requirement."

"Not officially." Clint grumbles.

 

* * *

 

Clint can sense Bruce's anxiousness.

They're back in Bolivia. Clint sees this as the place it all started, mostly because it was in this country where he first met Bruce in person. He's not sure what Bruce thinks about Bolivia. Everyone remembers things differently.

 

* * *

 

Clint hates drug dealers. He  _hates_ them.  _And_  their stupid gangs. They're always jumping him, Goddammit.

Bruce.

Bruce is safe. He's back at the motel.

Clint's not so safe. He's being held from behind, about to get punched in the stomach or across the face or upside the head or something equally painful. His bow has been snapped in half.

Suddenly there are ninja assassins.

Clint has one thought as one of them sticks a needle into the side of his neck:  _Bruce_.

It all goes black.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Clint wakes up in a darkened holding cell.

It looks like a S.H.I.E.L.D cell, but it can't be… could it?

He stumbles up and over to the opening, which is barred by a force field. Clint looks outside to see levels and levels of prison cells. S.H.I.E.L.D agents stand guard.

 

 

 

He's standing in a hallway.

A woman walks by.

"Bobbi?" He exclaims.

She keeps walking.

She's bleeding.

 

 

He's sitting in a circus tent.

He's in his caravan.

The crowd is roaring its approval.

Barney wants to leave.

 

 

 

He's in a dark chamber, chained to the wall. "I don't like mind games." He says.

The lady in the black and red suit turns of the machine and walks over.

"What do you want with me?" Clint says, scowling.

"Your mind." She holds up a needle and looks at it thoughtfully. "Pancuronium bromide." She says.

A paralytic?

Then she looks at him and smiles wickedly, "And potassium chloride. You'll feel it for about a second." She raises her arm and jabs it into his skin.

Clint's heart stops.

 

* * *

 

 

 

He blinks.

The sky is blue.

And blurry.

His chest hurts. Broken ribs, maybe. Dislocated shoulder, possibly. Definitely something broken in his leg.

He closes his eyes again. There's a strange ringing in his ears and he can't quite pull himself all the way into consciousness.

"Gotta get him to medical…"

The voice is familiar, but Clint doesn't have enough have the focus to place it right now.

"Who know how long he's been like this…"

"...Last heard; he was on a mission…"

"…will have to ask Fury…"

" _…make_  him tell us…"

"…here in two minutes…"

"Clint?"

The new voice cuts through nearby conversation and Clint knows that voice. He knows it –he knows it! He just can't…

He blinks his eyes open.

"Clint!"

"Stand back."

"What?"

"He could still be…"

"Yeah, Steve." The presence that was hovering above him moves away.

"Do you know who you are?" Comes a firm, steady voice. Steve.

Clint still doesn't feel the strength to sit up, but he smirks weakly at the sky. "'Course. Y'been… sayin' it…over an'…" His throat is dry. He feels like he's covered in dust from debris. He's pretty sure he is.

Natasha kneels over him. "Clint," is all she says, resting a hand on his arm.

 

* * *

 

Clint hates hospital beds.

Natasha isn't there when he wakes up, but Nick Fury is, standing at the foot of his bed like he's been waiting for the exact moment that Clint opens his eyes.

"What happened?" Clint says.

"We've put some of the pieces together. What do  _you_  remember?"

It's a test, and Clint struggles to organize his scattered memories. "Bolivia," he says, "Drug dealers working with ninjas. Woke up in a chamber. There was a woman. Brunette." He frowns, and realizes, "She euthanized me." Christ.

"The Hand sold your mind-wiped body to H.Y.D.R.A," Fury says, never one to sugarcoat things, "You came to your senses thanks to Charles Xavier, and from what we understand, the Hand has been using you as an assassin."

Shit. "How many?" Clint asks with a sinking feeling.

"Don't torture yourself with an answer nobody knows." Fury says. "More than likely, he were being used to off rival organization members."

But there had to have been innocent civilians, Clint thinks.  _There always are_. He's quiet for a moment, and then he asks, "How long has it been?"

"Eleven months since you went off the radar," Fury says.

And with a quiet horror, an image flashes through his mind. Dark curly locks of hair. A beautiful smile. "What happened to Bruce Banner?" Clint says.

Fury frowns, as if this is not a question he was expecting, but he answers, "We lost him. He slipped away a few months ago. He's off the radar." He watches Clint carefully.

"When can I get outta here?" Clint asks, looking down.

 

* * *

 

He thinks that maybe Bruce thought he ditched him.

Clint had left the motel, promising to be back soon, and he hadn't returned.

What Bruce must've felt when he realized Clint wasn't coming back… it makes him feel sick.

"You're leaving again?" Natasha catches up to him.

"I told you I was serious." Clint responds, leaning on his crutch in the doorway.

"Clint, you need to recuperate. Your last mission can wait until you're-"

"Tasha, it can't." Clint says, clutching the strap of the bag on his shoulder. "I can't sit around here with Psych breathing down my neck and everyone looking at me like the think I'm going to break down. I can't stay here."

"Why not?" She's angry, even if her voice is level. "Why throw yourself back into an old assignment?"

"I just… I have to, Tasha." His voice cracks, and then he sees it click.

Her eyes widen, "You didn't."

"I did," he says, and there's something so helpless in the way his voice cracks, that Natasha steps forward and hugs him, and it's warm and comforting and says ' _it's alright_ ' like no words could ever really mean.

"Give me a call when you get back," she says, which is as close to a goodbye as she'll ever say. She watches him descend the rest of the stairs and doesn't follow as he walks through the gates, leaving the Avengers Mansion behind.

 

* * *

 

Clint doesn't find Bruce. Weeks turn to months, and he travels the world and scours Bolivia twice. He exhausts his resources, and keeps going anyway, half hoping, sometimes, that he'll just find Bruce on the street, at an outdoor café, people watching, or in a bookshop, half hidden behind an old tome.

No one knows were the incredible Hulk is; let alone a nerd named Bruce Banner.

Clint wants to scream.

 

* * *

 

It takes four months to track down even a small lead on Bruce, and when he finds it, it's a single image, taken by a photographer in Afghanistan. It's a man in the corner of a street full of hungry children and woman and men and it's a snapshot of desperation that makes it into an article in a Farsi-language magazine in Montreal.

Clint is on the quickest flight across the ocean.

 

* * *

 

Clint's in Egypt and it's hot and dusty and he's hidden under a hood and traditional clothing.

He feels like crying when he sees Bruce standing at the edge of the village, staring out into the deserts.

Bruce doesn't see him approaching and he feels like his heart is breaking in two when he sees the look in his eyes. It's sad, lost, and almost empty. He stops next to Bruce, who doesn't turn. "I wish to remain alone." Bruce says slowly, in Arabic.

"Sorry," Clint replies in the same language. "It's my job to find you."

Bruce whirls around.

They stare.

"Clint." Bruce says stiffly.

"Let me explain." Clint says immediately, reaching out.

Bruce steps back and Clint drops his arm to his side.

"Why did you leave?" Bruce asks slowly, in English.

"I didn't want to. God, Bruce I'm so sorry. I… I let my guard down and the Hand caught me. Remember those assassins in Shanghai?"

"Yes."

Clint tells him.

They stand on the sandy grounds in silence.

The sun is beginning to set.

Bruce suddenly reaches out and grabs Clint's hand and pulls him closer until he throws his arms around Clint and buries his face into the crook of his neck and they just  _inhale_.

They starve for each other's touch.

Bruce pulls away, "Clint, I went to the Avengers Mansion to look for you, and someone said you were out. I thought that meant you'd already returned –I an idiot. I shouldn't have left. I should've stayed. I said I would go to S.H.I.E.L.D, but I never"

"Bruce," Clint says, shaking his head with a smile creeping onto his features, "It's okay. You know I'll always find you."

Bruce keeps his arms slung around Clint's shoulders, fingers laced together behind his neck. His eyes hold life once more. "That's true." He says, "You always show up eventually."

It's been twenty four and a half months.

This is where the chase ends.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They take the next flight out of Egypt.

The plane ride is mostly silent, because after all they've never really been much for words, but the silence is a comfortable one. Bruce holds Clint's hand, like he's afraid he's going to disappear at any given moment, and Clint doesn't so much as get up to stretch. He hopes Bruce understands what he's trying to say –what he wants to say, what he doesn't say:  _You'll never have to be alone again._

Bruce glances at Clint with tired eyes as the captain announces their descent. Neither of them slept, but Clint feels good in a way he can't explain. He leans in close to Bruce as the airplane flies closer and closer to the ground, and they press their foreheads together.

 _We're alright_ , Clint thinks,  _Everything is going to be okay_. His eyes are closed, but he thinks he can feel Bruce smiling, and it says all that he needs to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is an epilogue. Read at your own risk... I know epilogues can change your opinion on fics, so if you are satisfied with the ending, you might not want to read more. DECIDE WISELY, YOUR LIFE MAY DEPEND ON IT.  
> jk jk omg do what you want


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